


Even the stars, they burn (Some even fall to the earth)

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [32]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x22 spec, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, angst with fluff, it makes me happy, let me dream about stuff like this, post framework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Let's just say, theirs is a forever love.[Title from “I won’t give up” by Jason Mraz]





	Even the stars, they burn (Some even fall to the earth)

**Author's Note:**

> The author assumes that following the sneak peek, 4x22 will give us a scene in which Jemma tells Fitz that their future isn’t dead. … And then later Fitzsimmons reflect on that a bit more (aka, this fic ;) )
> 
> Works sort of as a follow-up to ["The Secret Marriage Never Can Be Broken"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10863237) and definitely as a follow-up to [Learn from my mistakes (Daisy/Fitz brotp)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10905339)
> 
> Thanks to @dilkirani for the beta

He walks into their bunk ahead of her, his movements like in slow motion. But then she is just as hesitant, looking around at the pictures fallen off the walls, dust and ash somehow having found its way in, covering the furniture, their bed. The quarters hadn't been hit as hard as other parts of the base, but their former home certainly hadn't escaped unscathed.   
  
He walks over to his nightstand, opening the drawer. A faint smile flashes across his face and Jemma doesn't have to guess to know what he's looking at.  
  
He reaches inside and pulls out the photograph and Jemma sighs in relief knowing that the image had survived.   
  
"You should call her," she suggests quietly.  
  
He turns his head, smiling weakly, and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I will."  
  
"It's strange," Jemma contemplates, turning her back on him to look around their room. "I'm almost happy we can't come back here. Moving somewhere else ... it sounds.... nice. Like a fresh start. I know we'll never be able to leave it all behind and forget what happened, but I think that maybe... maybe a different environment will make it easier. Certain things. A room with windows. Our own bathroom. Own kitchen. A real… a real _home_. A place to ourselves. We could try the apartment Daisy—"  
  
"Jemma," he interrupts her, quietly, and Jemma turns back around to face him.  
  
She gasps when her eyes fall onto the small box he's holding in his trembling hand. His lips are quivering and his eyes are tear-rimmed and fearful.   
  
"Did you mean it?” His voice is shaky and wavering, his chest rising and falling with anxious breaths. “What you told me earlier? That you... that our future isn't—isn't dead. That you still want it. With me. To grow old together. Did you mean it when you said that you want me to be—"  
  
A smile flashes across her face. "The father of my children? Yes. Yes, Fitz, I meant _all_ of that. All of that and more. I want to marry you and start a family and spend my life with you, through pain and joy and _everything_. I'll marry you tonight or tomorrow or a year from now or ten. Whenever you're ready. And until then, I'll be by your side if you let me. _Please_ , let me."  
  
He opens the box, his hands shaking so hard he almost drops it. He looks at her, squints to let a single tear escape his eyes just to stare straight back into her soul a moment later. He drops to both knees. Jemma can tell that it wasn't on purpose, not part of an old-fashioned romantic gesture. It's his body giving way underneath him, underneath the weight he’s carrying. He looks up at her, fighting back tears, his fingers desperately gripping the small box, the diamond reflecting the ceiling light.   
  
Jemma falls to her knees in front of him, cupping his face. "Fitz."

She pulls his chin up, kissing him softly. She notices the anxious breath he inhales, hears his stifled sobs, feels one of his tears dripping onto her cheek as his lips brush against hers both urgently and fearfully. He breaks their kiss, his breathing ragged and shallow, his forehead once again resting against hers.

“It hurts,” he whispers. His breath mingles with hers. “It hurts so much, and I’m so scared.”

“I know.” Jemma keeps her eyes closed, her lips pulling into a sad smile. “I know, Fitz. Let me carry it. Just for a little bit, just long enough. Let me help carry your pain, like you helped me carry mine. Let’s fix this like we always do.”

She forces herself to bring enough distance between their faces so that she can look into his eyes, her thumbs brushing gently across his cheeks. “Together! That’s when we’re at our best!”  
  
A smile flashes across his face, pained and sad and happy all rolled into one. His gaze falls to the small box in his hand and he fumbles, trying to force his trembling fingers to grab hold of the ring. He places the box on the ground, before stretching out his free hand palm-up, Jemma's eyes following each of his movements.   
  
She rests her hand in his and slowly he slips the ring onto her finger, before gazing into her eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as his thumb gently glides over the ring and the finger it adorns.

“I can’t promise that it will be easy, Jemma. I can’t promise that it’ll be quick. I can’t promise that I won’t doubt myself along the way. But I promise, I won’t run. I won’t push you away. I won’t give up. I won’t give up on myself or you or us. I promise I will love you no matter what.”

She smiles, reaching up to frame his face with her hands, to pull him closer and rest her forehead against his, closing her eyes and inhaling his scent. “That makes two of us then.”


End file.
